Good Touches
by Hogwarts Dropout
Summary: When Ron and Harry stumble through Percy and Oliver's fireplace looking for acceptance, they find a summer retreat where they have the best, if not the hardest, summer of their lives. Why Percy really left home, and more truths about Harry's abusive past
1. Default Chapter

Warnings: This is rated 'R' for a reason. It contains sex scenes. Reader discretion is advised. 

Pairing: RW/HP

Spoilers: Through book 5

A/N: Hello Ron/Harry shippers! I thought I'd board your vessel for awhile. Typically I write HP/SS so this is a bit different. I've never even read a Ron/Harry, so I hope this isn't too generic. I love all kinds of feedback, so don't hesitate to e-mail me at sshp208@yahoo.com or leave a review. 

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Good Touches

The lawn of the burrow glittered under the starlight, soaked in summer rain and almost as green as Harry's eyes. The desolate hero traced the patterns in the stars, looking for Sirius – his godfather forever immortalized in the vastness of heaven. He wanted to cry for him, cry like he had not allowed himself to do at the funeral, or when it had really sunk in not too long after the battle that concluded his fifth year. He was afraid that if he started, he might never stop. The floorboards creaked but Harry didn't turn. He knew it was probably just Ron getting up to use the restroom or get a glass of water. He was surprised, however, when a freckled hand gently squeezed his shoulder. 

"I miss him, too, Harry. I wish more than anything that he was still alive. He gave me Pig, remember? He always made me feel like no matter how bad things got, there was always some hope if he was still alive, still on the run. I wanted you to finally have a family with him. You deserved it so much." The red head's hand dropped from his shoulder to rub a lazy circle on his back. "Everyone's noticed that you've been distant since you came here. Mum's really worried, but no one is as worried as I am. You won't shut me out, will you? You'll talk to me, right?" The hand that had been on his back was now gently holding his hip, and the other hand was slowly wrapping around his waist. He could feel soft spikes of hair brushing against his earlobe as Ron's breath grazed his cheek. Ron was tenderly melding their bodies together, possessively trapping Harry's legs between his own, pressing his bare chest against Harry's back. 

Ron had touched him before. While they walked up to the dorms, Ron would sometimes brush their hands together in a way that couldn't be accidental. After he'd had intense nightmares, Ron had sat beside him on the bed, gently holding a cool cloth to his forehead while delicately running long fingers over his bare chest. Harry could only watch the hand ghosting over his nipples and stomach, not knowing how to feel, thinking it was wrong, but not making him stop. He never confronted Ron about it. He was his best friend, and his only best friend. What if, when Harry told him he was uncomfortable being touched, his friend got angry and they fought over it? He hated fighting with Ron. He couldn't stand not having someone to confide things to, someone to care about him when he woke up from bad dreams. 

But Ron had never done this before. He'd never pressed his groin so intimately against his lower back, never wrapped his arms around him and rubbed small, comforting little circles on his belly. Harry knew it was wrong, and he knew he should have been embarrassed, even angry, but Ron was right. He was hurting so much inside that it was killing him to keep it locked away. And Ron cared. Ron wanted to wrap him in his arms and hold him like no one had ever done for him when he was little. So what if he was another boy? He was also his best friend. Harry knew deep down that he'd give his soul to Ron if he asked for it. If Ron wanted to - touch him - then Harry would let him. And in return, Harry would mourn for Sirius in his arms. 

The tears began to fall, and just as steadily, Ron's sun chapped lips kissed them away. Unsure if Ron wanted him to touch him back or not, he hesitantly dropped his hands behind him and pressed them against the long, muscular thighs that were wrapping around him from behind. His attempt to touch became a need to cling to something. His grip tightened of its own accord and he felt himself start to shake with sobs. Ron's arms tightened around him and his smooth, freckled cheek nestled against his tan one. Gently, Ron turned him around in his arms. Harry immediately tucked his face into the hollow of Ron's neck and shoulder, pitifully hugging Ron around his chest. The red head returned the embrace, his own hands wrapping around him to hold him just under his rear. Harry cried brokenly as Ron gently rubbed his hands up the backs of Harry's thighs, over his ass, and in small circles in the small of his back. Then the hands would reverse their path over and over again until Harry had no more tears left. 

Ron slowly led him to his bed, ignoring the pallet that had been made for Harry to sleep on. Without much effort, as Ron was already developing into a man even if Harry still remained in the body of an overgrown child, he lifted his raven beauty lovingly and laid him on the side of the bed pushed against the wall. Harry felt completely drained, but wired at the same time. Watery green eyes met clear blue ones. 

He knew Ron liked touching him, just as his uncle once had. It never was sex, just harmless touching. Sometimes, when Petunia and Dudley had left them alone, and when Harry was still just six, Vernon would have Harry sit in his lap as he watched the television. He would run a beefy hand up his milky thigh, absently pushing up the material of his shorts as his thumb would stroke the cotton of Harry's underwear. 

__

"You know why I can touch you like this, don't you boy?" His uncle would ask as he'd slide fat hands over Harry's young chest. 

"Ye – yes - uncle. Because you feed me and let me sleep here, and I have to repay you." The little boy replied. Vernon nodded, dropping his hands to undo the button on Harry's shorts. 

"And what else have I told you?" He asked in a husky voice. 

"That I shouldn't ever tell anyone, or the nice touching will be bad touching. You'll hit me." Harry replied shyly, worry in his voice. 

"This doesn't hurt you, does it?" Vernon asked as he slid Harry's shorts down his skinny legs. 

"No, Uncle Vernon." 

"I'm just touching you, and that's okay, isn't it, Harry? Because you owe me." 

"Yes sir." 

Vernon freed Harry's penis and held it in his big hand. His own arousal began to tent his pants. Harry suddenly found his uncle's lap to be made of sharp angles, and he wiggled slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable spot. A throaty groan gurgled out of Vernon's fat throat. He pushed Harry off his lap as he hastily unfastened his zipper and pulled his erection out of his boxers. Then he grabbed Harry's small shoulder and pulled him in between his legs, lifting him up on his lap and positioning the child so that he straddled his thick thighs uncomfortably and his small limp penis was pressed against Vernon's purpled one. Vernon spread Harry's cheeks with meaty fingers and ran his thumb over Harry's small entrance. Thrusting against Harry as best as his girth would allow, he took one look at the little penis pressed against his own, pressed Harry's head downwards, and shot his seed into the little boy's face. Quickly, he yanked Harry's face up again to see his seed dribbling out of Harry's surprised little mouth, his green eyes wide and confused. Unable to resist, he pressed his lips against Harry's and kissed him with a passion he never showed his wife. Harry could feel his lips bruising, but he was sure his uncle wasn't intentionally hurting him. This was still a good kind of touching. Harry did not want the bad kind of touching, when Vernon would take him over his knee and slap his bare bottom with the full weight of his hand, occasionally stopping to squeeze the aching flesh harshly before spanking him again and again. 

Harry blinked his eyes a few times, wondering why the memory of his uncle had resurfaced then of all times. Ron's touching was not the same as his uncle's. He had never wanted his uncle to touch him, but he wanted Ron to. 

No. He didn't, really. He wanted Ron to be happy, and he knew that touching him would make Ron happy. Just as when he was a little boy, he'd only wanted to make his uncle love him like he did Dudley. 

But that wasn't right. Ron wasn't Vernon. Vernon had never really cared about him. Ron did care, and because he cared, Harry could never deny him what he wanted. Blushing, because he'd never thought he'd be saying this to another boy, he pulled his pajama pants and his boxer shorts down. 

"Touch me, Ron." He managed weakly. Ron obviously took his blush and his weak voice for desire, because he covered his lips again and didn't hesitate to place his hand around Harry's member. After the ravaging kiss, he looked deep into Harry's eyes, lovingly running to long digits up and down his length. 

"I want to take away your pain, Harry, just for a little while. I was so worried that you didn't like me, thought that you didn't even like boys. But I watched what happened with you and Cho, and something just told me that you weren't looking for a girl. Any other boy would have been on cloud nine after he got his first kiss, from a looker like Cho no less, but you didn't feel anything. You sounded almost like you regretted it. I've had the biggest crush on you for so long, and I was afraid to tell you. And every time I touched you, you wouldn't respond, but you wouldn't push me away. Why didn't you tell me you felt the same? We've wasted so much time that we could have spent together!" Ron questioned, obviously adding years to his life by finally releasing his feelings. 

"I don't - " Harry wanted to say, 'I don't feel anything about anyone,' but he knew that it wouldn't make Ron happy, and he was too emotionally drained to work up any emotion other than weak resignation. "I don't know. Afraid of rejection I guess." He finished lamely, wishing that Ron would get back to touching him instead of looking into his eyes like he was. 

"You look like this isn't what you want, Harry." He finally said, quickly removing his hand from Harry's limp prick. His caring, loving voice had hardened, probably without him realizing it. But Harry knew. He suddenly thought childishly of bad touches and tears spilled from his eyes. 

"No, Ron, please! _Please_!" Was all he could manage to say. He'd meant to beg him to touch him, meant to tell him that he did want him, meant to tell him something. But all he'd managed to do was plead for a solution that even he didn't know. Then, a thought pierced his skull like a bullet. 

Sirius would have helped him sort all this out. But now there was no one left. 

He only had Ron, and maybe Hermione, too, but she wasn't the one he confided all his secrets and insecurities to. Ron was the one who had given him a family, stuck beside him when others had turned away from him. And when they'd fought, it had consumed Harry so that it was the only thing he could think about all the time. He never wanted to go through that again. 

And he was tired of facing things alone. He wanted someone that loved him to protect him from everything. He wanted someone that would fight for him, so that he didn't have to do everything by himself, so that life wasn't such a burden. And Ron did all that. Ron was everything he had left in the world. He did it all without ever asking for anything in return, and now, all he wanted was harmless sex. 

Harry was not ignorant, nor was he still a child. He knew what Vernon had done was wrong. He knew, also, that having sex with another boy would make everyone think he was disgusting. 

But what did he care about all of them? They never risked their life with him, as Ron did. They never remained loyal to him when he needed their support. They only hurt him, slandered him, gossiped about him, and made his scar worth more than he was. He owed them nothing, and he owed Ron everything. Everything and anything that Ron wanted to take. The idea of rejecting him, looking down on him because he preferred men was unthinkable. Laughable. Ridiculous. 

Ron had been watching him think things through, hovering a few inches above his face and seemingly frozen there. 

"I need you, Ron. I need you and no one else. Hasn't it always been that way? As long as you'll love me, nothing else will matter, and if I loose you, _I_ won't matter. I would have never made it without you, Ron. I won't make it now if you leave me. Please don't. For just awhile, protect me from everyone." He begged, gripping Ron's biceps until he was sure he'd leave marks. 

"Oh, Harry, I'll always protect you, love. Always. I'll never leave. I promise." He confessed between needy kisses placed on whatever skin was closest. 

It was awkward. Harry didn't know exactly what to do, and neither did Ron. He'd had the foresight to have lubrication though, and it made him hard as a rock when Harry's trembling hands coated his arousal in the slippery cream. 

"I've never done this, Harry. I wanted my first time to be with you. I would have waited forever." He mumbled as he reverently spread Harry's thighs and prodded at his entrance with a slick finger. He was kissing Harry's chest and throat, seemingly unaware that Harry was not responding to his eager, hot mouth. Harry heard himself babbling a long string of nonsensical words intermingled with little mewls of pain when one finger became two fingers, two fingers became three. "Relax, love, it's supposed to make it hurt less." Ron said, worry creeping into his voice. Quickly wanting to re-assure him, Harry ran his hands along the smooth planes of Ron's back encouragingly. Completely lost in his own pleasure, Ron positioned himself at Harry's entrance. His eyes closed and his jaw hung loosely. Harry only rubbed his arms and chest a bit faster, watching, seemingly mesmerized, as a bead of sweat slid from Ron's crown of red spikes and down the hollow of his freckled cheek. 

Quietly, as Ron fully sheathed himself inside him, he heard himself whisper, "You're beautiful, Ron. I think you're beautiful." His hands had moved to cup Ron's face, his thumbs ghosting over Ron's fragile eyelids. Then, feeling unable to move anything and suddenly very dead inside, his hands fell to the bed like lead weights. He rolled his head to the side, so that he could see the stars outside the window. Ron moaned in passion, dropping his head into Harry's neck, and thrusting in a steady, passionate rhythm. 

Harry smiled sadly as he spotted Sirius, just at the feet of the great hunter Orion. 

Ron climaxed inside him, and the sensation jerked Harry's eyes to the back of his skull. The rush of seed had touched a part of him, something deep inside him, and he felt a low moan spill from his dry lips. 

Then the moment passed, and he was in pain and sticky. In addition, Ron was asleep on his chest, his limp penis still inside him. The whole thing hadn't lasted very long, and Harry had never become aroused as Ron had. 

But Ron was happy. Beautiful Ron was already deep in the arms of a good dream, and deep inside him. Harry shifted slightly, and suddenly their position felt much more natural. Harry found the blanket pooled beside them, and he managed to pull it over them, denying the starlight access to beautiful Ron's naked back. Then, with the intention of never immerging from under his protector again, he closed his eyes and made himself as small as he could beneath Ron, for the first time falling asleep in the arms of someone who loved him. 

A/N: Well. There you have it. I give chocolate frogs to reviewers!


	2. Acceptance

Chapter 2 

The Weasley household awoke early and full of energy the next morning. Bill and Charlie were back home, bunking up in the old bedroom they had once shared. The two brothers descended the stairs loudly, yet they still didn't wake the two sleeping boys as they passed Ron's room. 

Soon, the entire Weasley family, and a member of the Order, were seated and ready for breakfast with only three empty spots, only two of which would be filled. Despite Percy's acceptance that Voldemort had returned, he had not come back home. Mrs. Weasley had gained a new attitude about the subject, often saying it was for the best that he had left. Mr. Weasley remained stubbornly silent on the subject. 

"Charlie, dear, mind the bacon. I'm going to go wake up Ron and Harry. They'll miss breakfast at this rate!" Mrs. Weasley twittered, moving towards the stairs with all the appearances of a ruffled mother hen. Minerva, who had popped in to see Charlie and Bill, two of her favorite old students, had been persuaded to stay for breakfast. She was reminiscing with Bill when suddenly a door slammed upstairs. A hush fell over the table.

"Think everything's alright?" Ginny asked worriedly, her eyes turned to the stairs. 

"I'm sure everything's fine." Charlie replied smoothly as he asked who wanted bacon. Conversation resumed normally, but Mrs. Weasley and the boys didn't return to the table. No one commented on it until Mr. Weasley told the others to stay downstairs in case Molly had worked herself up into a temper. No doubt the boys had done something that had gotten them into trouble. 

"Wonder what they thought up?" Fred asked idly. Ginny shot him a look. 

"Well, do you have your ears or not?" Minerva, Bill, and Charlie looked confused, but the twins broke out into identical grins. 

"I fear we've influenced you horribly, Ginny." George said as he pulled a rubber ear out of his pocket. 

"And it's absolutely brilliant." Fred finished, levitating the ear up to the ceiling. The other ear on the table suddenly buzzed with sound. 

Muffled crying. Mr. Weasley's voice demanding to know what was going on. 

"Merlin, wasn't Percy bad enough? But you had to put me through this, too, didn't you Ron? Oh God I can't believe what you did in my house!" Molly's sobbing became heavier, and it was obvious Ron was talking at the same time Mr. Weasley was. 

"What do you mean Percy put you through this? He didn't just leave because of the ministry, did he?!" Ron furiously questioned. 

"I'm beyond ashamed with you, with _both_ of you." Mr. Weasley's voice practically hissed in a tone that no one downstairs had ever heard him use. Minerva wanted to confiscate the ears, but she couldn't make herself say the words. She, too, wanted to know what was going on. 

"And YOU – thinking you can come in my house and behave this way after what my family has done for you! I assure you, Mr. Potter, that this will be your LAST visit to my home! We thought of you like a son and now I regret that. Merlin you don't _understand _how much I regret that!" Mr. Weasley continued. It was obvious he was hurt and angry. Mrs. Weasley was no better, alternating between sobbing, throwing things, and ordering Ron not to come back home until he was done with his stupid little stunt to get attention. 

"I didn't want to believe what the papers said about you – how you were only out to get attention. But this is all this must be. I've never known two boys that would be so ungrateful! Do you have _any_ idea what this will do to the rest of your family, Ronald? Did you even think of that? What kind of example you're setting for your sister! Rutting like animals - not even legal - are you and Percy _trying to rip our family apart?!" She raged, followed by a crash as she probably had thrown something large. _

At her last statement, Charlie had dropped his glass in surprise, spilling orange juice all over the table. Fred and George's faces were contorted into expressions of revulsion and surprise. Ginny had tears running down her cheeks and Minerva was shocked to her core. 

Loud shouting was erupting out of the ear. 

"You _bitch_! He's bleeding! Get out! Get out NOW!" Ron roared obviously throwing a few things of his own. The door slammed again and everything was quiet. 

Ron, wrapped clumsily in a sheet, was hunched over Harry. The small boy had sunk against the foot of the bed; his hand pressed to the gash on his temple that had come from a flying pair of scissors. In a fit of rage, Mrs. Weasley had begun throwing the things on Ron's desk, and the pair of scissors had caught him unexpected. 

"That fucking bitch! I can't believe… fucking Merlin!" Ron was cussing in a low, steady stream, dabbing at Harry's cut with a bit more force than was necessary. The sheet he was using was beginning to darken with the blood. Harry watched it fascinated, still shocked and raw. Finally, he caught Ron's wrist and captured his gaze. Wordlessly, Ron dropped the cloth and pulled Harry towards him in a fierce embrace. "Don't worry, love, we'll go to Percy's place. We'll just … we'll just pack our things and go, okay? Come on, Harry, snap out of it." Ron said, some of his old brusqueness returning. Harry felt a little of his old self return as well. 

"Right. I know we'll be okay. I trust you." He said quickly before he untangled himself from Ron and made his was to his trunk. Suddenly, lanky arms tightened around him squeezed him happily. 

"Before I forget, you were wonderful, beautiful, amazing, perfect. And I meant every word I said last night." With that, the red head went to his own trunk and opened it quickly. Despite everything, Harry smiled at his lover. Ron was all he had left, but Ron would be more than enough. 

Oddly, he thought of that single second the night before when Ron had come inside him. Perhaps that was what Ron had felt the entire time? He felt a blush come to his cheeks as he remembered how he had moaned.  

They had put their clothes on without cleaning up, packing their essentials into their school book bags and left through the window on their brooms. They had done this in a matter of minuets, so when Minerva went upstairs, the most composed one at the moment, to make sure the boys didn't do anything rash, she found them already gone and the bedroom an upturned mess. 

Immediately, she rushed to the fireplace to alert the Headmaster that the two boys were flying unprotected out of the reach of the wards. 

She really had no need to worry. The boys had stopped at the Weasley's neighbor a few miles away. The elderly couple graciously welcomed Ron in their home – obviously having babysat him a few times when he was younger. Ron didn't stop to offer explanations, only said that it was urgent they use their floo network. They allowed them, of course, and called goodbye as both boys flooed to "Percy Weasley's Residence!"    

Percy and Oliver had just sat down to breakfast when the two disheveled, dirty boys came crashing through the fireplace of their flat in Diagon Alley. 

"Ron? Harry? What on earth are you doing here?" Percy questioned immediately, rushing to his little brother and his companion. 

"Harry, you're bleeding! What happened?! Was it Death Eaters?!" Oliver interrogated in his unique accent as he pointed his wand to Harry's temple. Meanwhile, Percy used a spell to clean off the ash that practically coated the both of them. Harry didn't answer their questions, only sunk onto the couch and hid his face in a pillow. Percy and Oliver shot Ron questioning stares. In answer, Ron dropped down beside Harry, and took his hand in his own. Realization dawned slowly on Oliver, but Percy immediately got the message. 

"Merlin, what did Molly say to you two?" Percy asked quietly, wrapping a comforting arm around his baby brother's shoulders. 

"I called mum a bitch. I … I never thought I'd say that. But she threw scissors at Harry, and it made me furious. I … We left then on our brooms, and flooed here from the Jamison's house. They don't know where we are, but I have a feeling they'll guess pretty soon. Mum," Ron paused, a cloud of anger obscuring his face, "_Molly _let it slip that you didn't just leave because of loyalty to the ministry. I should have known it wasn't as simple as that. You … you'll let us stay here, won't you?" Ron asked worriedly. 

"Of course we will, Ron. You and Harry are always welcome here." Oliver answered. Harry raised his face from the pillow and put it back beside him. He sighed heavily, his sweaty hand still resting in Ron's. 

"Thank you. I have nowhere else to go. I won't go back to my relative's house. I'll never go back there." Something about the way he said it made the others look at him with something unreadable on their faces. Ron was the first one to snap out of it. 

"Don't worry, Harry. I won't let you go back. Merlin, you look awful." Ron said quietly, noticing the bags under Harry's eyes and the paleness in his skin. Harry snorted, and shot Ron a dry look. 

"Thanks for that. It's just what I needed." He deadpanned, smiling slightly so that Ron knew he was just joking.

"Ron's right, Harry. You need a hot bath, a soft bed, chicken soup, and the latest Quidditch Quarterly. That should perk you righ' up." Oliver announced in a pep talk tone, pulling Harry up off the couch and leading him into one of the two bedrooms in the apartment. Percy smiled after them and then gave Ron's shoulders another gentle squeeze. 

"How about I get you some breakfast before we talk?" He suggested only getting a grateful nod in response. 

An hour later, Harry was gently sleeping in the guest bed, a flask of dreamless sleeping drought on the bedside table and filled to the brim with Percy's hot chicken soup. Oliver, Percy, and Ron were sitting around the table sipping strong cups of coffee. 

"It's simple really. Harry and I have always been close because of what we've been through together. When he had nightmares, I was the one that wiped his brow and sat with him until he fell asleep again. We've risked our lives for each other countless times, and I'm the only one who he'll tell what he's feeling. I had a crush on him at first, starting probably at the end of our fourth year. I wasn't sure I was gay then, so I was in denial most of the time. But I was having crushes on other boys, the biggest one on Viktor Krum. Hermione's fling with Krum infuriated me. Everyone thought it was because I liked her, but it was really just jealousy. But I got over that and came to accept that I was gay. Then I started realizing the way I acted around Harry without even knowing it. I was always trying to get closer to him, touching him at every opportunity. I was so worried that he had realized it and didn't feel the same way. I had to know, so I became a bit bolder. He didn't reject me, but he didn't encourage me either. Then Cedric died and everything seemed to go in fast motion. 

He was so angry and emotional last year. The thing you have to know about Harry is that he's got these walls he builds around himself. He's not anything like the role he acts around everyone else. But I'd seen him when he let his guard down. He's traumatized, depressed, unstable, you name it. Last year, those walls started crumbling on their own. He just can't keep up the façade forever. He's practically dead inside, and I'm the only one who he'll talk with. Last night, I watched him stand at the window for hours when he thought I was asleep. I knew he was just standing there trying not to cry. I decided I couldn't take it anymore, so I wrapped my arms around him. He started sobbing. I'd never seen Harry cry before. I think it was his first time. After that, things started getting pretty intense, and he said he wanted me to, but at the same time something in his eyes told me to stop. When I started to pull away, he got a bit hysterical and I knew that he needed me. It was wonderful, but I learned something last night." He stopped, staring into his coffee with tears clouding in his eyes. Oliver and Percy waited patiently. 

"I- I think Harry was raped by his uncle." Oliver dropped his mug in surprise and Percy leaned forward in disbelief. 

"Did he tell you that?" Percy asked. Ron blushed. 

"No, but I don't see any other explanation. It was like he wanted me to, and didn't want me to at the same time. We were both enjoying it until all the sudden his eyes glazed over and he was completely silent for a few minuets. When he came out of it he didn't want me to leave him, he was practically frantic for me to take him. I think he had a flashback. And then, he was enjoying it, but I felt he never got … well, you know." 

"The symptoms sound right. Merlin." Percy said hollowly, looking at the closed door Harry was sleeping behind. "Of course we'll do everything we can to help you both. You're going to stay here for the summer, and I won't hear of anything else. I don't want you staying with someone that fills your head with garbage about homosexuality being wrong and that kind of nonsense. You and Harry need some time to sort things out in a calm, accepting environment." Percy said in that bossy tone that signaled he meant business. 

"If by calm you mean boring then that sounds about right. Not much happens around here except Perc occasionally getting on a soap box about cauldron leaks." Oliver joked. Ron snickered into his mug and Percy rolled his eyes. "Of course," Oliver continued, "you'll have to come to all my games and practice with me at the park. And no doubt Percy will attempt to turn Harry into a good little housewife like he is." Ron laughed outright, and then only laughed harder when Percy snatched up their coffee mugs and went to the sink. 

"I'm not a housewife, Oliver. Just because I can cook and I like keeping our home clean, and I clean up all your filthy quidditch gear does _not make me a woman. That's insulting." Percy huffed as he agitatedly washed the dishes. This only made Oliver and Ron laugh harder. Percy realized what he was doing and smiled then, too. "So maybe I am a little homemaker. I didn't hear you complaining _last night_, Ollie." Ron blushed to the roots of his hair. Percy took one look at him, laughed, and then clarified. _

"Last night I made Oliver a big fancy dinner because his team won in the playoffs. I wasn't referring to sex, Ronnikins." That only made Ron blush harder and Oliver laugh. Percy swatted him with a dishtowel. 

"You'll wake up Harry. Keep it down. I have to finish up my report. If Ron doesn't want to get some more sleep, why don't the two of you go play some quidditch at the park?" 

"Oh yeah! Congratulations on taking my old spot, Ron!" Oliver beamed. 

"Well, I'm not really good at all. I'm not too bad if it's just me and Harry, but if anyone else is watching I suck." Ron said. Oliver looked like Christmas had come early. 

"I haven't gotten to coach someone in forever. This is going to be great. But you should probably rest some with Harry. You don't look too chipper yourself. In the mean time, I'll go to the Burrow and get your things." Ron thought longingly of Harry curling up in his arms and immediately agreed. 

The queen sized bed felt like heaven. Ron eagerly climbed in; smiling when he realized how tiny Harry looked curled up in the bed. Harry moved to press his face into Ron's chest, nuzzling against the soft material of his T-shirt. Placing a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, he cradled his beautiful boyfriend in his arms and followed him into sleep. 

A/N:

See! Harry really does love Ron – he just doesn't know it yet. He'll get better, don't worry! I'm not going to make this too angsty. So what do you think about my theory on why Percy left? Everyone always pictures the Weasley parents as being loving and accepting, but I thought this would make an interesting spin on things.


End file.
